


Happiness is a Warm Crossbow

by RenkonNairu



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Angst, Being confronted with responsibility, Flamebird - Freeform, Gen, Homework, Meeting children you orphaned, Meeting the Parents, Positive actions having negative consequences, Study Group, crossbows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 02:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11393211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenkonNairu/pseuds/RenkonNairu
Summary: - Oneshot -Just a short vignette. An after school study session. Warren and the Commander exchange words for the first time.





	Happiness is a Warm Crossbow

“Hey, how come you never come over to my house?”

Warren blinked at the question, looking up from his book to see Stronghold -surrounded by his whole entourage- looking at him. The pyrokinetic closed his book, holding the page with his finger and said, “What?”

“We're all going over to Will's house for a study group.” Layla informed him.

She was wearing her hair -that was a shade of red so deep it went beyond 'ginger' and into the realm of 'scarlet' or 'flame'- in a half-up, half-down style that Warren thought looked very pretty on her and that Stonghold did not actually deserve to call her 'girlfriend'. Someone that intelligent, empathetic, caring, willful and -yes- pretty, deserved someone who would appreciate her much more than Will Stronghold did -or could.

“I'm a year ahead of you all.” Warren informed the group of freshmen. “Why would I study with you?”

They had no classes in common. In fact, the only time they even saw each other during school was at lunch, and the occasional bout of Save the Citizen.

“Well, that's even better!” Ethan announced, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You've already done all the lessons and tests we're going through right now. Who better to help us with our homework?”

“I'm not a freakin' tutor.” Warren informed them. He flipped his book back open and returned to his second favorite pastime - ignoring all of them.

One would have thought that that would be the end of it. Warren Peace, the son of Baron Battle, a guy that a fair majority of the student body was afraid of, had dismissed them. They should move along. Go on their merry little way. Leave him alone. For a second, it seemed like that was what was happening. Stronghold sighed with exasperation and turned as if he was

about to leave. If he left, then the rest of them would follow him.

But Magenta paused. Turned back to glare a challenge at Warren. “Ya know, someone might start to wonder if the real reason you don't wanna study with us is that you're afraid of Will's dad.”

That got Peace’s attention. He set his book down, his page unmarked and forgotten. He stood, glaring down at all the underclassman from his noticeable hight difference. His voice was low and even, but for some reason that just made him sound all the more threatening. “What?”

Ethan gulped and melted into a puddle of nerves. They might all be friends now, but Warren still wasn't very 'buddy-buddy'. In fact, he was still rather intimidating. Zach grabbed Magenta by the hand and pulled the guinea pig-shifter away from the pyrokinetic -a shift in the group that just noticeably placed Will between Warren and the rest of the group.

“Don't get mad.” Layla moved quickly between the two supposed 'best friends'. She, at least, wasn't afraid of Barron Battle's son. “Its an understandable thing to assume given the... history Will's dad has with your dad.”

Warren's eyebrow twitched. He did not appreciate reminders about his father's incarceration. “I am not afraid of the Commander.”

“Prove it!” Stronghold jumped on the opportunity. Warren just might join their study group if it was a challenge he could beat. “Come over and study with us. My parents might not even be home.” A shrug. “And if they are... my dad makes excellent tuna sandwiches.”

…

Warren did go over to Stronghold's house. But he didn't really help the underclassman study very much. He realized very quickly that what they actually meant by 'help us study' was really 'just give us the homework answers'. That was something he would not do. The fact that it would be more detrimental to them in the long run aside, Warren was always raised to let people succeed or fail on their own. A soldier would never get very far if he's dragging the dead weight of his injured comrade with him.

He very quickly went back to his book.

There was talk among the staff of getting rid of the Hero and Hero Support tracks and merging both divisions into one Power Development program. But, thus far, the school remained as it was. Divided in two. Hero, and Hero Support. As acknowledgment of their heroic efforts during the Battle of Homecoming, everyone in Stronghold's entourage was transferred to the Hero track. Remarkably, in freshman year, the Hero Support and Hero tracks were not all that different.

“Ugh! The crossbow question again?” Zach groaned over his textbook.

“No, this one's different.” Ethan argued. “Here, we're waiting for the sidekick to reload the crossbow, not loading it for the hero.”

“Same coin; different side.” Magenta seemed thoroughly unimpressed with their new course curriculum.

“What's the thing with crossbows anyway?” Stronghold asked, tapping his pencil on his own open text book with one hand, while the other arm was draped over Layla's shoulders. “Whoever writes these questions seemed obsessed with them.”

“Maybe the authors just like weapons that aren't as destructive as guns.” The gentle eco-warrior suggested.

That comment got Warren to put his book down. He stared at the naive flower-child as if she'd just said the most ridiculousness things he'd ever heard. The same way he stared at her when she suggested they go to Homecoming together. “Who told you crossbows aren't as destructive as guns?”

All eyes turned to look at the pyrokinetic. He spoke so little since they arrived at Will's house.

Layla fidgeted under his gaze. Warren always did have such an intense stare, dark brown eyes smoldering in a way that -while there was never any glow or unnatural light- still somehow managed to 'burn' with the intensity of his passions. For a person who spoke so little and socialized even less, Warren Peace seemed to have a great deal of passion burning inside him.

Then again, one given over to the philosophy of imagery and metaphors could say that was the nature of fire. To burn passionately. Will was kind, sweet, gentle, and caring. But he did not have Warren's passion.

“Its just...” She tried to venture an explanation. Uncomfortable under the intensity of his gaze. “Guns use gunpowder. Bows and arrows don't. There's... there's no boom.”

“No boom.” The fire wielder gave a short laugh. As if he thought her answer was cute. Warren Peace knew a thing or two about booms. “That's when the bullet leaves the gun. But what about what happens when it hits its target? Assuming the thing that's hit is the thing that's aimed at.” He paused to lean over the shoulder of the person closest to him to actually read the question for himself -it had been a year since he had to go over it. “It doesn't say anything about body armor.”

Magenta wrinkled her nose as if he were just trying to change the subject to make himself sound smart -which, as far as they knew, could be exactly what he was doing. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Kevlar and tactical vests will stop most bullets.” Warren informed them. “They're usually hollow and break on impact -or scatter when fired like buck-shot. But a bullet proof vest won't stop an arrow. It'll go right through its target. Most supers -villain or hero- are neither invulnerable, or immortal. Stronghold here might be on account of his strength. But the rest of us? The rest of us are gonna have to find ways to incorporate some kind of body armor into our costumes. If you're going up against a villain wearing armor, what kind of weapon are you gonna use on them? You're gonna wanna use something that pierces armor. That's the book's obsession with crossbows.”

Layla lowered her eyes. She was a pacifist by nature, and didn't much like the idea that the school was trying to give her a formal education on the proper methods of harming people dependent on what they were wearing. She fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable in Stronghold's arms and cleared her throat.

“I think I'll get some orange juice.” She stood. “Does anyone else want anything while I'm up?”

She left the room before anyone actually had the chance to answer.

“I'd like a glass!” Ethan called after her, awkwardly. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and looked back at Warren.

Stronghold's attention was likewise on the pyrokinetic, only his stare was a glare. “You made her uncomfortable.”

“How terrible for her.” The fire user scoffed. The sheltered little miss perfect, who believed in truth, love, and justice for all, who was able to see both her parents on a daily basis and never had to feel like apologizing for things that had nothing to do with her was uncomfortable. How tragic. Warren leaned back in his seat and cracked his own book back open. Then paused again. “And, by the way, crossbows also take a while to load. That's why the sidekick's always the one doing it.”

“How do you know so much about crossbows?” Stronghold asked.

But Warren was no longer paying attention to him. Or, at least, Warren was determined to make it look like he was no longer paying attention to him. The pyrokinetic turned the page in his book and readjusted his shoulders to look more casual. He knew a surprising amount about different ways to kill a man -and he didn't learn it in school. His father was the real expert on ways a man can die.

In the kitchen, Layla poured two glasses of orange juice. One for herself, the other for Ethan. She heard his request as she dashed from the room. But she was too intent to get away from Warren and the intensity in his eyes when he talked about armor, and weapons, and killing people. The pyrokinetic was a good person. She knew from experience. He could have joined Gwen Grayson -Royal Pain- or he could have just cut and run when Homecoming went south. But he didn't. He chose to stay and help save everyone. He was a hero. Layla knew.

But he was also the son of a super-villain. Barron Battle. For the first time since meeting him... for the first time since talking to him... for the first time since becoming his friend, Layla began to wonder just what kind of childhood he had. What kinds of things did he learn with Barron Battle as a role model?

So lost in thought was she, that Layla nearly jumped out of her skin when the Commander came in through the kitchen door unexpectedly.

He paused at the startled look on her face. Her wide green eyes, pert lips, and the two glasses of orange juice she'd poured. “Am I disturbing a romantic evening?”

Layla blushed at the implication. After their first kiss, she and Will had done little more than hold hands, or wrap their arms around each other. She didn't know why, maybe because they had been friends for so long before they got together, or maybe because she had pined after him for so long before they got together, or maybe for some other reason she couldn't yet name... but whatever the reason, Layla felt awkward kissing Will. Like kissing a brother. Something about it just wasn't right.

“Just study group.” She shook her head at the Commander.

“The same group from the dance?” He asked.

Layla nodded.

“Well, I'll just poke my head in and say 'hi,’” The Commander strode through the kitchen and into the living room. But froze upon seeing someone who had not been part of his son's study group the last time he came home to the kids all there.

Reclining on the couch, his face in a book. The dark hair was straight, not curly and there were red streaks where his father had none. The boy was just a little bit skinnier. The nose was a little different, and he didn't wear glasses. But the forehead, the eyebrows, those cheekbones, and that chin... they were all the boy's father's. They were all Barron Battle's. The Commander knew his son had befriended Barron Battle's son. He saw as much at the dance -although he never actually spoke to the boy. But it was still a shock to come home to find that very same son of a super-villain sitting on his couch. Sharing a coffee table with his own child.

The others looked up at him when he entered.

Maybe he took too long before saying anything, because they were giving him this weird look.

Sensing a change in the mood of the room, Warren looked up from his book -and shot to his feet upon seeing the Commander standing over him. The man who took his father from him. The pyrokinetic cleared his throat. Then quickly realized he had no idea what to say.

There was an awkward pause.

Everyone was staring at them.

Finally, the Commander broke the silence first, with only a small amount of hesitation. The kind a person could only see if they were looking for it -which they all were. “Hi. We haven't been introduced. I'm Will's dad.”

He held his hand out to shake.

Warren hesitated just a moment longer. Extending his hand, then pulling it away again to make sure it wasn't about to burst into flames from nerves, or tension, or any of the other roiling emotions burning inside him. Finally, he took the Commander's offered hand. “Warren Peace.”

“Peace -you're Flamebird's boy, right.” He said, deciding to focus on the kid's mother rather than the father he was well aware he put away for four consecutive life sentences.

“Uh, yeah.” Warren nodded, not expecting that at all.

“Well, tell you're mom I said 'hi.’”

The pyrokinetic opened his mouth to tell the Commander that Mara Peace would just say that he could take his 'hi' and shove it so far up his- Ahm. Warren quickly decided it was best not to tell Stronghold's dad exactly what Barron Battle's wife thought of him. Instead he gave a stiff nod. “I, uh, I should go... I- I have work.”

He shoved his book back in his backpack and bolted from the house. Warren's power was to create and control fire, not super-speed. But no one had ever seen someone move as fast as Warren did just then. Fleeing the Commander.

The clock ticked one... two... three times after the door slammed behind him before anyone broke the silence.

The Commander cleared his throat. “His, uh, his 'work', he's not... uh. What does he do?”

“He's a porter at the Paper Lantern.” Layla came back into the room. She set Ethan's juice down in front of him then reclaimed her own seat next to Will.

“A porter.” The Commander echoed, not quite sure what an appropriate reaction to that was. Barron Battle's son, washing dishes and bussing tables. Wow. That was... not what the Commander expected at all. “Oh. Oh, good. That's good. Good for him.”

The Commander cleared his throat again. Suddenly realized he didn't know what to do with himself, and the kids were still staring at him. Finally he left the room.

He knew his son had befriended his old enemy's son. But, for some reason, the Commander never actually imagined himself having to meet or talk to the boy. He knew that Barron Battle had a child when he put him away. But, the Commander also never imagined having to meet, shake hands, or lock eyes with the child of someone he'd put away. What did you even say to a child knowing you were the one that took their parent away from them? It was something Steven Stronghold never considered. He never imagined he'd have to.

…

END


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